When the pack meeting broke up a few predictable things happened. Scott and Allison immediately left in Allison's car. Derek cornered Stiles in the kitchen. And the other four boys all climbed into Jackson's car and went who-knows-where to do who-cares-what.
At least, Lydia didn't care. She was with Erica now. Sort of. Mostly. It wasn't serious. She was leaving in two months and never coming back and this summer was about having fun, not having more ties to Beacon Hills.
Lydia was just about to storm into the house and demand keys when Stiles walked out the door. "You're giving us a ride," she said.
He nodded, because of course he was. "Who did you two come with?" he asked.
"Allison," Erica answered, rolling her eyes.
"Ah," Stiles said, nodding knowingly. "Well, come on." He looked surprisingly unmolested, not that it was easy to tell with that hair of his. But Lydia wasn't sure what the point of dating someone like Derek was if you weren't getting molested on a regular basis.
"Poor Stiles, no action," Erica whispered, because she could read Lydia's mind, apparently.
"Should we give him a thrill?" Lydia asked.
Erica laughed, which was as good as a yes.
They both climbed into the back seat, and Stiles rolled his eyes. "Oh, so I'm your chauffeur now?" he asked, looking at them in his rear view mirror.
"Home, James," Erica said, snickering as the car pulled away. Then she immediately pounced on Lydia, half on her lap, and they kissed.
"Ladies!" Stiles shouted. "Seat belts!"
Erica gave him the finger, which made Lydia laugh and threw off their rhythm but only for a moment. And sure, maybe they were a little louder than usual, a little more involved, but just because they were putting on a show didn't mean it wasn't thoroughly enjoyable. Their legs entwined, their arms wrapped around each other, and Lydia shifted a little so that Erica's pretty behind could be shown off to its best advantage.
Despite being so aware of being watched—or perhaps because of it—Lydia could feel her body reacting to Erica's. Their breasts were pressed together, always one of Lydia's favorite things about being with another girl, that soft against soft. Lydia's hands were on Erica's waist, to keep her from shifting too much as they jostled in the back seat of the jeep. Erica had one hand in Lydia's hair and the other between her ass and the seat, pulling her up so they could grind against each other. Erica's thigh pushed between Lydia's legs and she was getting wet embarrassingly quickly, but then she always did with Erica.
Besides, Erica knew just what to do with her tongue by now. These days when they kissed Lydia immediately thought about Erica on her knees, head between Lydia's legs, because Erica's technique was basically the same for both acts. Lydia wasn't sure if that meant she treated kissing like cunnilingus or the other way around, or maybe they were sort of the same thing anyway.
Before she knew it Stiles was slamming on the brakes, a little harder than was really necessary, and Erica and Lydia were jostled out of their seats.
Lydia looked up at the mirror, scowling, but Stiles was smiling.
"First stop," he said. "Next time, use your seat belt."
Lydia huffed, then gave Erica a quick kiss before climbing out. Erica slid over and Lydia leaned in the window. "Call me as soon as you get home," she said, "and we can continue this."
Erica smiled. "Be glad to," she said.
"You done?" Stiles asked, not turning around.
Lydia pushed back from the car. "Don't be cranky just because you didn't get any," Lydia said.
"I get plenty, thanks," Stiles said crankily, and drove away.
Lydia didn't live that far away from Erica, but she made the most of the little bit of time she had to get her hair back in shape—or really, the sexy kind of disheveled rather than the messy kind— and re-apply her lip gloss, because appearances mattered even more when you were having sex on Skype. Now that she was alone again, her wet panties just felt damp and a little cold, but she didn't change them because Erica liked them wet, and Lydia was willing to brave a little discomfort.
Anyway she didn't have to wait around on Skype for too long before Erica came online.
"Did he get pissier?" Lydia asked.
Erica rolled her eyes. "He didn't even talk to me!" she said. "Poor Stiles."
"Poor Stiles, home alone," Lydia said.
"Jacking off and thinking about us."
"You are so vulgar."
"You love it. And that's what you wanted, isn't it?"
"Maybe," Lydia said. "But I'd rather talk about me, and how you're going to get me off."
Erica tipped back her laptop screen and started unbuttoning her shirt.
"Nudity," Lydia said. "Nudity is good."
"Show us your tits, then," Erica said.
"Seriously, so vulgar," Lydia replied, but she was pulling off her top anyway. And she liked watching Erica take her breasts into her hands, all creamy skin and rosy pink nipples that, Lydia knew from experience, hardened quickly with just a few flicks of her fingernail, so she ordered Erica to do so.
"You are so bossy," she said, but she did it.
"You love it," Lydia said, standing up to shimmy out of her panties.
"Mmm, freckles on your thighs," Erica said. "Can I see?"
Lydia held her panties up, not sure if the camera could pick up the damp patch darkening the fabric.
"Nice," Erica said. "I did that. Don't take the skirt off."
Lydia sat back down and pushed back a little from the screen. "You like it up the skirt?"
"Mmm, I do," she replied. "Like putting my hand up your skirt, sneaking one in the bathroom between classes."
Lydia wasn't sure why she'd even let Erica do that. Not exactly princess behavior, but it felt good to have that little secret, to work on differential equations in front of the whole class with her panties soaking wet, to know that Erica was smelling it on her and liking it.
God, what was she going to do when she got to college? Look around for another wolf pack? What was her life?
Lydia pushed the thought out of her mind and slipped a hand up her skirt. Watching Erica take off her jeans one teasing button at a time was enough to distract a person, anyway. "Keep that pretty face in the frame, sweetie," she told her.
"Hang on," Erica said, and then she was kneeling on her bed, legs spread open and head thrown back, looking like an old-fashioned pin up. "What do you want me to do?" she asked.
Lydia leaned back in her chair, lifting one leg over the arm. "Surprise me," she said.
Erica cocked her head, then leaned forward into the computer. "One sec," she said, fiddling with it, and then music came out of the speakers, a rock drum beat followed by a driving bass line.
And Erica was dancing.
"This is the lap dance I'd give you," she said, whipping her hair around and thrusting her hips, her hands moving from the back of her neck, over her breasts, across her stomach and along her thighs. She seemed to know every guitar lick in the song and just how to move to it, and she was completely unselfconscious in a way that Lydia could never be.
Lydia pulled the computer onto her lap, transfixed. "You're so … " she whispered.
"I wish you were here," Erica said, her left hand spending more time between her legs as her right hand played with her hair. "I love how you watch me all the time."
"Yeah?" Lydia asked.
"Everyone watches you," she said, "but you watch me." The music had ended but Erica was still moving, her fingers working to get her off.
"That's because I like what I see," Lydia replied, and she did, liked seeing Erica's busy little fingers pressing at the flesh between her legs. "Let me see what you're doing."
Erica bent over and spread herself open with one hand while her fingers slid on either side of her clit, into her wetness and then back out again, everything glistening and shiny. Lydia liked how Erica looked just like a girl, not like the perfectly manicured porn women she'd seen. Her skin was dark pink and Lydia wanted to kiss it, licked her lips to remember the taste of it.
"You are so gorgeous," Lydia said.
"Yeah?" Erica asked, her voice sounding small. "You really think so?"
"Look at you, sweetie. God, look at you, getting yourself off for me."
Erica looked up then, and her eyes flashed amber. Lydia shuddered.
"Careful with your claws, honey," Lydia said. "I know you can heal but the blood's a turn off."
Erica chuckled then and even if her claws weren't out, her fangs were, and Lydia felt another jolt. She hadn't decided yet if she was excited by them, or still frightened. Maybe there was actually a difference. Maybe these last few years had ruined her for humans and she was doomed to spend the rest of her days on the periphery of groups of creatures like Erica.
"Lydia," Erica said, and her hand was moving faster, more erratically.
"You can do it," Lydia said. "Do it for me, come on, you know how I like to see it."
"Keep talking," Erica said.
"If I were there," Lydia said, "I'd be kissing you, and those would be my fingers inside you, getting you off. Touch that spot, sweetie, just like I showed you."
Erica's thumb pressed hard against her clit as her fingers went deeper, curving inside of her, and she gasped.
"That's right," Lydia said. "Rub it hard like I did. You liked that."
"Oh, oh, oh," Erica was saying, her hips still swaying to a beat of her own and then with that tell-tale little squeak her muscles flexed. Then she collapsed onto the bed, panting.
Lydia put the computer back on the desk and grabbed her tiny little fingertip vibrator, wanting to get off as quickly as possible after all that. "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," she muttered, quietly but hoping Erica could still hear her. "Fuck you're so gorgeous."
"You liked watching me dance for you?" Erica asked.
"Fuck, fuck, oh," Lydia said, because apparently she couldn't still talk, and then she was falling over the edge, clenching around her hand, gripping the chair with her other hand as she rode it out.
When she was aware of her surroundings again, she heard Erica giggling.
"You okay?" she asked.
"Yeah," Lydia said, sitting up. She looked at Erica, sitting on her bed all naked and welcoming, and suddenly it seemed like a waste. "I'm coming over to get you."
Erica cocked her head, because Lydia had never suggested an overnight before. "Really?"
Lydia shrugged because fuck it. Erica was fun and the boys could go fuck themselves. They probably were, anyway. "Yeah. We can do our nails or something."
Erica smiled, sexy and a little dirty. "Or something," she said. "I'd like that."